Be a Prince
by RevSue
Summary: Prince Pierre comes home for the first time in years to help celebrate Clarisse and Joseph's anniversary.
1. Chapter 1

BE A PRINCE

_Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters (since Princess Diaries 1 & 2, and its characters are the property of Disney, Buena Vista, and Meg Cabot.) I make no money from this work of fiction._

Pierre sat ramrod-straight in the airplane seat, oblivious to the curious stares of the people around him. Dressed in his plain clerical garb, he had counted on no one knowing his true identity, and it appeared to have been a successful ploy. His face might have looked serene, but inwardly, his thoughts were in a turmoil. He had not been back in Genovia since his father's funeral, although his heart had ached for his mother at Philippe's funeral. He had been advised not to return to Genovia in case the Parliament saw his presence as a sign that he wished to revoke his abdication and take the throne. Then, as now, he had wrestled with his personal desires, but after receiving the official letter from Parliament, he had reluctantly bowed to 'official Genovia' and stayed away.

Strange, he thought now, but every time he had considered coming home, an official letter had come making it quite clear that his presence would not be welcome in his own country. He had missed all the important state occasions such as his brother's funeral, his niece's arrival and coronation, even his own mother's wedding to Joseph! Pierre had ached to be able to contact his mother many times in the last eight years, but had been 'advised' by a Member of Parliament that it would not be 'wise', to keep the break a clean one. Against his better judgment, Pierre had bowed to what he had thought were specific orders from the Parliament of Genovia. He had missed birthdays, Independence Day celebrations, Christmas and Easter, anniversaries. Anniversaries. A faint smile relaxed his tension-tight face and he patted the jacket pocket with the first official invitation he had ever received to return to Genovia. And Charlotte had even written a very precise, very formal request that he try to make time for his mother on this special occasion of her second wedding anniversary. Oh yes, he recognized Charlotte's handwriting, even after eight years of not seeing it.

Only two weeks ago, he had received the invitation and had not heard from that particular Member of Parliament. Strange, Pierre mused. He actually had not heard anything for two years from him! He supposed that after six years, Parliament had assumed he no longer needed to be warned to stay away from the country. Either that, or Charlotte had managed to send him an invitation without anyone else knowing about it!

Charlotte. Finally relaxing enough to lean back, Pierre closed his eyes and allowed himself to think of the young woman who had stolen his heart in the chaotic days following his father's death. She had fallen deeply in love with him then, too, but he was so much older that he had refused to allow himself to even think about marriage. He had seen what a great age difference could do to a marriage, and did not want it to happen to his. Charlotte had assumed he had turned away from her because she was a commoner, and only his mother's assistant, and had retreated instantly. Pierre had never corrected the assumption. What was the point? He loved her, but he would never subject her to the same sorts of things to which his mother had been subjected. Even now, though, Pierre could taste Charlotte's kisses, feel her pliant body pressed to his. She had not ACTED the way a child would, but ...

Pierre forced those carnal thoughts away again, and concentrated on what he would find in Genovia when the plane landed in ten minutes. Naturally, he would be seeing Charlotte again. Charlotte had been so helpful to his mother, both then, and more particularly later, after Philippe's tragic death, and in the years since. Slipping the invitation out of his pocket and reading Charlotte's short note again, he frowned slightly at the censorious tone she had taken. Why, she wrote it almost as if HE were to blame for his continued absence!

Returning the invitation to his pocket thoughtfully, Pierre closed his eyes and prayed that this visit to his homeland and to his family, the first in eight years, would clear up some of the mysteries and misunderstandings and barriers which had been hastily erected a few short weeks after his father's death.

O o O o O o

Filing off the plane, blending in with the crowd, Pierre knew he would not be met. He had not sent word. Looking over at a group of French schoolgirls, he heard them talking excitedly about their choir singing at the palace for the celebrations. Pierre smiled inwardly. His mother always had loved music. Naturally music would be a big part of any celebration for her. Then Pierre stopped dead in his tracks when he saw who had just arrived and was greeting the chaperones of the school choir.

As she finished greeting the choir leader, Charlotte's eyes idly swept the airport lobby. She froze as her eyes met Pierre's. The colour left her face for a moment, then a flush spread rapidly over her cheeks. She excused herself and walked unsteadily towards Pierre, who remained motionless, his eyes on hers.

Charlotte came right up to Pierre, and after a moment of silence, dropped a slight curtsey. "Your Highness."

"It's Pierre, Charlotte," he said huskily, his eyes moving hungrily over her face. She hadn't changed very much at all, except perhaps to gain some confidence. She was still beautiful.

Ducking her head when she realized she had been examining him every bit as closely as he had her, Charlotte stammered, "P-Pierre. I - I didn't really expect you to come."

He arched an eyebrow. "After your gracious invitation?"

Charlotte's colour intensified. "I wasn't sure you even read anything from here. I thought you had, well, cut yourself off from Genovia entirely."

"Cut myself off? On the contrary, I was cut off. Banished, exiled in effect."

Charlotte opened her mouth, then closed it again, looking confused. Pierre sighed. "Look," he said. "I'd rather not talk about it right now. Since I am here at your invitation, is anyone else expecting me? Do I have a place to stay?"

"No," Charlotte said faintly.

"No? No place to stay?" Pierre was incredulous. What kind of homecoming was THIS?

Charlotte forced a laugh. "No, no one else is expecting you. I'm sure there will be room at the palace."

"Hmmm," Pierre murmured. "Eight years ago, you offered me yours. With you included, of course."

Charlotte's eyes met his, then hers narrowed. "Eight years ago, you refused to have anything to do with me romantically after I made the offer. NOW you want to take me up on it? I hardly think that is a possibility." Her voice was cool and controlled. "May I offer you a lift to the palace, or would you prefer that I have a limousine sent?"

"Are you finished here?" He looked over to where the schoolgirls were grouped, watching them closely. "Would we be alone? We need to talk."

"This IS rather a busy time," Charlotte said. "If you mean by 'talk' just idle conversation, then ..."

"By talk, I mean I want you to fill me in on what I have missed for the last eight years, and why."

"Why?"

"Why was Parliament keeping me away from my home?" he almost hissed at her. "Do you have any idea at all?"

Charlotte's eyes were wide with disbelief. "Parliament? I am certain that we had nothing to do with your absence!"

"We?" Pierre caught her up.

"Parliament. I have been a Member of Parliament for over a year ..."

"Well, for the first six years, I received a letter from the Genovian Parliament every time I even THOUGHT about coming home. Viscount Mabrey counselled me to ..."

"Viscount MABREY?" Charlotte interrupted him. "Oh, Pierre, I ... just a minute. We DO need to talk!" She hurried over to the French group and spoke rapidly to the leaders, gesturing in the direction of the doors and waiting taxis. Then she came back to Pierre. "Come, we'll get your bags. I'll just call Shades," she pulled her cellphone out of her pocket, "and tell him you're here."

Pierre put his hand over hers, stopped her from phoning. "Shades?"

"He - he's the new Head of Security. He took over from Joseph two - two years ago." Her hands were trembling under the warmth of his. "I - I told him I had invited you ..."

"Who else did you inform, Charlotte?"

"No one," she whispered.

"Why don't we let my arrival be a surprise to EVERYONE, then, including this ... Shades."

"Oh, but ..."

"And where are we going to talk? Somewhere private? The lake?"

Charlotte lost her colour again. It had been by the lake eight years ago that she had confessed her love to Pierre after he had kissed her passionately, and she had impulsively invited him to her rooms. She could still feel the shame that had swept over her at his abrupt refusal. He had left Genovia the very next day. Charlotte had not been able to go near the lake since. "If - if you wish, your highness."

Pierre's lips tightened. Yet another misunderstanding to clear up, AFTER he heard about Viscount Mabrey and why the man's name had sent up a flare of disgust in Charlotte's eyes.

O o O o O o

"The Viscount did WHAT?" Pierre jumped to his feet and began to pace after hearing Charlotte's story. The beautiful surroundings had been lost on him shortly after Charlotte had begun speaking. From her story, it seemed as though the Viscount had been plotting to put his nephew on the throne ever since King Rupert's death. No wonder the man had written letters to keep Pierre estranged from his family! Now he scowled at the lake, then turned back to Charlotte. "So, where IS he now? Jail? A dungeon someplace?"

Charlotte didn't even smile. "No. He's at home. He hasn't been seen in public since that day at the cathedral. His nephew has taken over his place in Parliament."

"And this same nephew is now MY nephew by virtue of his marriage last year to Amelia," Pierre said. "Is he anything at all like his uncle?"

"No. Well ... no. I wondered at first, because he was staying at the palace when Queen Mia was going to marry the Duke of Kenilworth, and a number of ... strange ... things happened. But since the two were married, I've been MOST impressed with Lord Deveraux. He and Joseph are very close."

"Joseph. The next person I wanted to ask you about." Pierre sat down by her side again.

"You know Joseph," Charlotte said, looking distinctly uncomfortable now that Pierre was close again.

"Not as a step-father."

"He's no different than he ever was."

"He and Mother really ...? I mean, they married for love?"

Charlotte couldn't resist. She smiled and said teasingly, "Well, they didn't HAVE to get married! But your mother said that since everyone was already dressed and ready for a wedding, she and Joseph might as well take advantage of the arrangements once Queen Mia and the Duke called off their wedding! You do remember it was at the last moment, don't you?"

"I was watching it on television," Pierre admitted tightly, looking down at his fingers as he dug grass out of the lawn.

Charlotte's eyes softened, and she put her hand on his arm. "I'm so sorry, Pierre. We never suspected that the reason you weren't coming home was because that man was sending you letters he had no right to send, with completely false information. You SHOULD have been here for the wedding. You should have been here for EVERYTHING that has happened since King Rupert, may he rest in peace, passed away."

Charlotte's touch was his undoing. He had thought he had himself in control. He had thought that, at fifty years of age, he was past bawling like a baby and wanting to be comforted. But now, back in Genovia, he was feeling again the loss of his father, his beloved brother, years of his mother's life ... and perhaps the loss that stung the most, the woman who was now holding him tightly, murmuring softly as she stroked his back. Then, after the storm of grief was past, Pierre could not resist the second storm of desire which swept over him. He found comfort, acceptance, hope and love in Charlotte's arms.

O o O o O o

Late that night, after a tearful but joyful reunion with his mother, after getting re-acquainted with Joseph, a man Pierre had long admired, and after meeting his niece and sovereign and her husband for the first time, Pierre regretfully called a halt to the serious discussions and endless questions with no answers. "I don't know about all of you, but I am getting too old for these late nights, especially with a later one planned for tomorrow. Your Majesty," he bowed to his niece, then hugged her tightly and whispered, "Thank you for allowing me to stay, Mia!"

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Uncle Pierre!" she beamed at him, kissing his cheek. "Especially when I see how Grandma's eyes are sparkling with happiness!"

Turning next to his mother and Joseph, Pierre hugged them both, saying huskily, "You two are just PERFECT for one another. I'm so happy for you both!"

Queen Clarisse teared up again, but managed to contain them before they spilled down her cheeks. "Oh, my Pierre, you'll never know how happy you've made me by your presence!"

"Thank you SO much for coming home, Prince Pierre. This has definitely made your mother's anniversary a festive occasion!" Joseph shook his hand heartily.

Pierre smiled. "The person we REALLY have to thank for this reunion is Charlotte."

The others looked very surprised. "Charlotte?"

Pierre withdrew the invitation from his pocket. "She wrote a short, pithy letter to me with the invitation to the ball tomorrow."

"Does she know you've accepted the invitation? Does she know you're here?" Mia leaned forward eagerly.

"Actually, she met me at the airport."

"She MET you?" Clarisse was staggered. "I thought she was ..."

"We met accidentally," Pierre elaborated. "But yes, she knows I'm here."

"Where IS she? I haven't seen her since noon. Have you, Grandma?" Mia asked.

"No," Clarisse shook her head. She turned to Joseph, who shrugged and shook his head.

"Maybe she was with Shades this afternoon," Mia said. She grinned at Pierre. "Shades is our Head of Security now that Joseph has retired ... and he and Charlotte are madly in love."

"Mia!" Clarisse and Joseph exclaimed together, but Pierre wasn't listening.

Shocked by Mia's words, somehow Pierre made his way out of the salon and up to his rooms, paying no attention to the footmen or maids who spoke to him. Charlotte was in love with someone else? Then why had she allowed HIM to ...?

O o O o O o To Be Continued


	2. Chapter 2

"So, Grandpa, it has been two years since your life changed!" Mia grinned at Joseph over the breakfast table. "Would you do it again if you had a choice?"

"Mia, really," Clarisse frowned at her.

Joseph, however, was already responding. "I would do things a little differently, had I the chance to do it over," he said.

Clarisse and Mia both stared at him open-mouthed.

"Yes. Rather than be married so close to the summer solstice, I do believe I would have preferred to marry in December, preferably ON the winter solstice."

Mia looked the questions she couldn't get out of her mouth. Joseph winked at her, then smiled lovingly at his wife as he took her hand. "The winter solstice is the longest night of the year, not the shortest!"

Clarisse chuckled, but Mia quickly teased, "Do you think you could have lasted that many hours, Joe? I mean, for an old man ..."

"MIA!" Clarisse was horrified now, but Nicholas, Joseph and Pierre were all roaring with laughter.

Then Mia wiped her mouth with her napkin daintily, and re-folded it. "Okay, the reason I wanted you all to come to breakfast is so that I could spring my plan for tonight on you."

"Sounds ominous," Joseph raised his eyebrows as he looked at her.

"I hope not," Mia said. "Only Sebastian and I know about it, but he said I would have the backing of Parliament anyway."

"You generally do, darling," Nicholas said, lounging in his chair.

"That's right. I do. So what I've decided to do tonight, since Sebastian agrees, is to create both Nicholas and Joseph princes, and give them the style of His Royal Highness. So Joseph, you will be henceforth known as Your Royal Highness, Prince Joseph, Duke of Mertz. And Nicholas, you'll be Your Royal Highness, Prince Nicholas, Lord Deveraux, Duke of Liebitz." She sat back and waited to see the reactions.

Pierre watched with interest as Nicholas sat upright in his shock, and Joseph slumped in his chair. Then Joseph was shaking his head. "I don't WANT to be a prince!" he protested, somewhat feebly.

Pierre laughed. "You don't know how many times I used to say that!" he said.

Clarisse turned wide eyes on her grand-daughter. "Are you SURE, Mia? You ... you really would do this?"

"Of course! Why not? I mean, I'm sure we all agree that Joseph and Nicholas are princes among men ANYWAY, right? The Investiture will be tonight at the ball, but I'm going to sign and seal all the papers this afternoon. Sebastian is coming at two o'clock to meet with me."

"Mia ..." Clarisse began, but Mia spoke faster.

"I also have written up two Royal Warrants which we will be declaring tonight. Nicholas will have place, pre-eminence and precedence next to myself on all occasions and in all meetings, except where otherwise provided by Act of Parliament. Joseph will have the same next to Grandma." Mischievously Mia turned to her uncle and said, "Uncle Pierre, do you have a girlfriend? While I'm signing Royal Warrants, I can do one for you, if you want. You'll have to marry her first, of course."

Pierre blinked at her, then looked at his mother who was still clutching Joseph's hand and staring at Mia. "Ah, no, thank you, Mia. Not right now."

"Well, let me know when you want it. I mean, you're still a Prince of Genovia, you know."

"Am I?" Pierre said, slowly. "I have been under the impression for the last eight years that I was no longer welcome here."

Incredulous, the others all turned to stare at him. "I ... I thought you hated it here, hated all of us ..." Clarisse said slowly. "We were informed that you no longer wished to have any contact with us."

"Who would have done that?" Pierre asked. "No one in his right mind would have ..."

Joseph cleared his throat and Nicholas groaned. "My UNCLE would do something like that, given half the chance."

"It was on official Parliament stationery ..." Clarisse murmured.

"As were the letters I got 'advising' me to stay away. And they were all signed by ... Viscount Mabrey." Pierre looked apologetically at Nicholas.

Clarisse stood up suddenly, fury shaking her. "That ... that SNAKE has done the last bit of damage he will ever do in Genovia!" she vowed.

"Clarisse, my darling, please ..." Joseph tried to get her to sit down.

Mia, however, stood up with her grandmother. "You're right, Grandma."

"Very right," Nicholas supported his wife by his words as well as the arm he slid around her slim waist. "You'll have to strip him of his title and banish him from Genovia."

Somewhat bewildered, Pierre looked at the others. "You would do that? Really? For me?"

"It's for all of us," Mia said firmly. "I was denied the chance to know you when I first learned that I was to be queen here one day. Grandma has been deprived of the one son she has still living. And YOU were deprived of US! And yes, I know that sometimes that might be for the best, but still, it's something that has to be done for ALL of us! But, ummm ..." suddenly she looked uncertain. "Can we leave this whole mess until tomorrow? AFTER the anniversary and me creating these men princes?"

O o O o O o

That afternoon, Pierre prowled the palace in search of Charlotte. He caught sight of her as he rounded one corner, then drew back when he realized she was laughing with a man close to her own age, looking much as Pierre remembered Joseph from his childhood, dressed in black and wearing sunglasses. Then Charlotte leaned forward and kissed the man quickly before turning away and hurrying in Pierre's direction.

As she passed him, he put out his hand to stop her. Charlotte jumped. "Pierre! I mean ... Your Highness!"

"You were right the first time," Pierre growled. "Was that Shades?"

"Who? Oh!" Faint colour rose in her face as she realized what he must have seen. "Yes."

"You kissed him."

"Yes."

There was silence for a moment while Pierre glared at her, and Charlotte glared back, refusing to explain any further. Then Pierre snarled, "I don't need your pity!"

"Good, because you're not going to get it!"

"What do you call what happened by the lake? Don't tell me you did it out of LOVE! You felt sorry for me, Charlotte! Admit it!" Pierre's hands tightened on her upper arms, and he almost shook her.

"Oh, Pierre ..." Suddenly Charlotte's anger died away. "You just don't understand, do you? You never have."

"I was told last night that you and this ... Shades ... are madly in love."

"You were told wrong."

"You're calling Queen Mia a liar?"

"I'm saying Queen Mia does not know everything." Charlotte remained defiant, her petite body stiff and unyielding.

"So ... you and Shades are NOT madly in love?" Pierre didn't know why he thought he had the right to question her, but he couldn't stop himself.

Compassion was on Charlotte's face now. Reluctantly she said, "I admit that, well, Shades claims to love me. Madly."

"And you?" Pierre pressed, his fingers tightening even further.

Charlotte winced a little, but did not pull away. For one mad moment eight years ago, she had forgotten who and what he was, and had allowed herself to be held and loved by him. But no sane woman would ever dream of loving a prince, even one who was no longer in direct line for the throne, because with marriage would come the end of privacy and of a 'normal' life. Yet she couldn't lie. Not to anyone, but especially not to Pierre. She took a deep breath, then said, "My heart was taken eight years ago. I cannot love anyone else." Pierre stared at her, and she gently disentangled his fingers from her blouse, not looking at him directly.

"I am too old for you!" Pierre said at last.

"That's what you said before," Charlotte nodded, and she believed that that was the entire reason for his rebuff even less than she had eight years ago. "I happen to disagree. Ten years is not a great age difference."

"Maybe not NOW, but it will be when we are older. We have the example of my parents. From what I could see, it was the age difference that caused them to not have a great marriage."

Charlotte stared at him in silence. He couldn't be serious. He honestly thought that the difference in age between the king and the queen had caused the ... friction ... in their marriage?

"Surely you had guessed their marriage wasn't pure delight," Pierre said impatiently.

"No, I didn't need to guess. I KNEW." Charlotte replied quietly. "I didn't think YOU did. And you obviously still do not know the real reason why it was not a wonderful marriage."

"Because he was so much older than her, of course!"

"No. Because it was an arranged marriage, and your mother and father were never in love with each other." Then Charlotte clapped her hand over her mouth. "I wasn't supposed to ever say that!"

Pierre stopped walking and stood still, his eyes unfocused. His parents had not loved each other? He must have said it aloud because he felt Charlotte's hands on his and heard her voice as if from a distance. "Yes, they DID love each other, Pierre! You MUST believe that!"

"But you said ..."

"They LOVED each other. They were just not IN love. Queen Mia said your mother told her she grew 'very fond' of your father ... but that's all it was. Fondness. Friendship. Not true love. Not like the love your mother and Joseph have for each other." She gripped his hands tightly. "Not like ... not like the love I have for you." she admitted earnestly. "Oh, Pierre, I know I have no right to love you, I KNOW you cannot marry someone like me, and I no longer dream of marrying you and living happily ever after as though I were a character in a fairy-tale ... but I DO love you. It's more than the friendship and fondness that grew out of your parents' marriage, and your mother would tell you that were you to ask ... especially now that she is married to Joseph. They are truly in love."

They were right by the door to the throne room. Hearing voices and footsteps coming closer, Pierre guided Charlotte quickly into the dimness of the throne room and shut the door behind them. Then she was in his arms and he was kissing her frantically, hungrily. Charlotte responded passionately, and their embrace was all Pierre had waited for. With no thought to place, time or position, he held Charlotte close to him and let his body absorb her. Her hands were moving restlessly over his back, trying to draw him even closer, and his slid from her hips to her breasts.

A faint gasp from behind him alerted him to someone else's presence, and Pierre whirled around, shielding Charlotte from view. His own eyes widened in shock.

O o O o O o

After lunch, Joseph and Clarisse had withdrawn to their suite to rest for the evening's festivities. Joseph, however, had been too restless to settle, so Clarisse finally took his arm firmly and announced that they would walk the corridors of the palace for a while. When they reached the throne room, she had an idea, and steered him into the empty, echoing room.

"Joseph, Mia is going to create you a prince tonight. You will be given estates, duties and responsibilities ..." she began.

"Clarisse, did you put her up to this?" Joseph finally asked the question which had been preying on his mind. "Did you ask Mia to turn me from a frog into a prince? Are you ashamed of me? Of being a queen, yet married to a nobody?"

"Joseph, how could you even THINK such a thing?" Clarisse was astounded. She threw her arms around him. "No, I never asked Mia to do this, but I am very glad she thought of it on her own. NO, I am not ashamed of you! On the contrary, I thank God every day that ... that you love me enough to marry me in spite of my being a queen. I know what you had to give up ... your privacy, your ..."

"My women ..." he inserted cheekily, reassured by her instant and vehement denial.

She pushed at him. "Your WOMEN? I should HOPE you would give up your women!"

"You are woman enough for me, Clarisse, queen of my heart ..."

Joseph looked around and realized the throne was only a few feet away. He boldly sat down on it, and drew his wife down onto his lap. His hands smoothed over her trim waist then over her breasts, causing her to take a deep breath and lean yearningly into his caresses. Then his fingers were on her neck, her cheeks, and turning her head so he could kiss her deeply. Clenching her hands on the arms of the throne, Clarisse gave herself up to Joseph's kisses. She felt exquisitely sensitized. Every breath she took heightened her awareness that they were both very, very ready to make love. It was at that moment, as she sat on Joseph's lap on the throne of Genovia, that she became aware of the door at the far end of the room opening.

Two figures slipped in then blended into one with the unmistakable sounds of whispers, gasps and quickened breathing indicating what the two were doing. Clarisse inadvertently gasped aloud, and the man whirled around. It was Pierre!

Joseph slid his arms protectively around her as Clarisse wondered what on earth she could say. Yes, she and Joseph had been caught in the middle of love-making before, but this was ridiculous! This was her SON!

O o O o O o

"P - Pierre?" Clarisse spoke quietly, realizing instantly that she would not be able to hide her general dishevelment from her usually astute and observant son.

"Maman!" His childish name for her escaped his lips. "Joseph! I ... I DO beg your pardon for interrupting your ... er ... tryst."

"As we beg yours for being here when YOU have planned to ... CHARLOTTE!"

Pierre felt Charlotte slipping from behind him to come to his side.

"Your Majesty," Charlotte began, trembling violently. "J - Joseph, I ... we ... it was just ... it's not ..."

Pierre put his arm around her and shushed her. Over her whispered protests, he said loudly, "Mother, Joseph, I must tell you that I have loved Charlotte for eight years. Back then, I thought I had no right to ask her to join me in exile, so I - I ..."

"You love Charlotte?"

Seeing the disbelief on his mother's face, and the strange stiffness of her posture, Pierre frowned slightly. If he didn't know better, or want to believe the opposite, he would say that she and Joseph had been ... had been ... ON THE THRONE! As his eyes adjusted to the light, he could see the hectic flush blooming on his mother's face, her faintly swollen lips, her trembling fingers, her clothing which had been pushed awry by Joseph's hands.

"Your Majesty ..." Charlotte began, but Clarisse interrupted her with a breathy exclamation.

"I ... we ... we all thought ... you love Shades!"

Pierre noticed his mother's faint grimace at the words which came out of her mouth, and he grinned inwardly. Yes. Howevermuch he shied away from the thought, his mother and Joseph had obviously started a serious love-making session here in the throne room and now her thoughts were all jumbled. He and Charlotte HAD to get out of here!

Even as Charlotte was quietly repudiating his mother's question, Pierre began to edge her towards the door, feeling like a naughty schoolboy instead of a sedate fifty-year-old. "We'll just leave you two alone ... we'll see you later ... at the ball ..." Then he stopped. "Oh, by the way, Mother, I'm bringing Charlotte as my guest."

"No!" Charlotte protested. "Pierre, no, I have to work ..."

Pierre ignored her protests and urged her out of the door, shutting it behind him.

"Pierre, I can't ..."

"Charlotte," he interrupted her. "Did you notice what they were doing?"

Charlotte thought back, then a flush spread over her face. "Oh." Then she began to giggle.

Evading the guards stationed down the corridor, Pierre hustled her further away from the throne room before giving in to his uncontrollable urge to laugh. "My MOTHER!" he gasped.

Through her own laughter, Charlotte managed to tell him that such things had been going on for the last two years. "They ... they don't always stick to their own rooms, it seems."

"My mother!"

"It's their anniversary," Charlotte reminded him. "And after all those years of denying themselves ..."

Pierre shook his head, trying to get rid of the image of the very proper and most elegant Queen Clarisse sitting on her husband's lap, engaging in ... THAT ... on the THRONE! He looked down at Charlotte beside him, and felt another surge of desire for this woman. He loved her. He knew he shouldn't ask her to marry him. He knew all the pitfalls she would face, how her life would change dramatically ... and, despite her words earlier, he KNEW he was too old for her. But she was irresistible. His self-control had been decimated seeing how happy his mother was now.

His arm heavy around Charlotte's shoulders, Pierre backed her into an alcove and kissed her again. His mouth on hers had been warm, suddenly it was hot, demanding. "Tell me this is real! Tell me I'm not dreaming, Charlotte!" he gasped.

"If you are dreaming, so am I!" Her response was husky as she clung to him.

"Sorry to interrupt," said a cool voice, in a tone which showed she was not sorry at all, "but is it time to ask you two to get a room?"

Charlotte pushed away from Pierre with a gasp. "Your MAJESTY!"

Mia was standing there, grinning at them. "I'm looking for Grandma and Joe ... have you seen them?"

O o O o O o

It was a wonderful ball that night. Music, lights, laughter and love all conspired to make it the most memorable experience Pierre had ever known for a state event. Of course, part of that was knowing that the lovely woman at his side had finally persuaded him to take a chance on their love and marry her. He had decided to wait until the next day, once the spotlight was off his mother and stepfather, before making the announcement. In the meantime, they had danced, talked, and watched the happy couple who were celebrating their second anniversary in many different ways.

The enthusiastic response from the people had been tremendous when Sebastian and Mia had announced their plans for Nicholas and Joseph, and the two new princes had behaved as though they had been born royalty. Mia had privately informed Pierre and Charlotte as they were leaving that she expected to be allowed to do the same type of thing for Princess Charlotte after THEIR wedding.

Charlotte became instantly flustered, and Pierre had laughed before kissing his niece and saying, "Thanks, Mia. We'll let you know if we need it."

"You do. Once a prince of Genovia, ALWAYS a prince of Genovia. So when you marry Charlotte ..."

"Mia, love," Pierre's voice was calm, "Perhaps Charlotte hasn't agreed to marry me yet. Don't you think you're being a little premature?"

"HAVEN'T you agreed?" Mia stared at Charlotte, startled.

Charlotte ducked her head to avoid the young queen's piercing gaze. "I, well ... that is ... actually ..."

Mia nodded. "Uncle Pierre," she said solemnly, "Charlotte cannot tell a lie to save her life."

Both Charlotte and Pierre laughed at that. Mia hugged them both, whispering, "I'm happy for you both!" then went back to her husband.

"May I escort you back to your rooms?" Pierre asked politely, offering Charlotte his arm.

With a brilliant smile, she accepted it, tucking her hand into his and leaning against him. "I love you, your Highness," she whispered. "And yes, I will marry you."

THE END


End file.
